Meet Me At My Window
by WhimsicalNinja
Summary: This is a prequel, I guess, to I'll be right here on the ground. I intended for this to be a two-part piece, let's see where it goes :)


You're sat on a barstool at General Cho's. You love it here. Everyone does.

Quinn sits beside you. She's eyeing up your photographer friend Sam.

You don't have to look at her to know, you can hear it in her heart. The way it quickens as you know she is stealing not so innocent glances up at him between each bite.

You would be doing the same if she were here. You know that all to well.

This leads you to your next thought. Where is she? She said she'd be right behind you.

Obviously she isn't.

* * *

You quirk an ear up for her heartbeat. The pattern ingrained in your memory now.

It's been ingrained in you from the minute her rays of sunlight channelled you renewed strength. From that very first second you stepped into Shuesters' office.

Before you even saw her, you'd heard her heartbeat. And when you looked at her, it became clear why it was imperative for you to memorize it. It was what kept your heartbeat going.

You tentatively stretched your hand out to meet hers. Your fingertips grazed as she encased your hands in hers. Both hands lingering seconds past what would be considered normal.

Your hands molded together, binding you to her. And for those few seconds, your hearts beat as one.

You sometimes wonder if she knew too.

* * *

You are pulled from your daze as you tune into her pulse beating wildly out of sync.

_Fuck._ Where is she?

You are glad for your poker face as you continue to listen out for her.

Quinn and Sam continue their mis-timed stolen glances.

You roll your eyes inwardly.

Saps.

* * *

Something in the room catches your attention.

**"Breaking news, Mid-town's Banking district has been hit for the third time in two months. Intrepid reporter Brittany Pierce of the Daily Planet has been caught amongst the hostages- sorry I have been corrected, in a stunning turn of events, Daily Planet's Brittany Pierce has in fact offered herself in place of one of the young children who was hurt in the hold up-"**

* * *

_The things you do to me Brittany Susan Pierce_

You're on your feet excusing yourself before anyone has a chance to register what they just heard.

_Fuck._

You're out the door.

_Fucking 'intrepid'._

You round the corner as one hand graps the collar of your blouse, tearing it from your body.

_Fucking intrepid Brittany Pierce._

You're halfway up the side of the building as the last of your clothing is discarded in a decidedly half full dumpster.

* * *

Your ears pick up on Brittany's whereabouts.

You have a mental image of the inside of the bank already.

You know exactly how it's gonna go down.

* * *

Two minutes later.

Her face is tucked into your chest.

You're hoping your bulletproof body is soundproof too, so she doesn't hear your heart beating out your chest.

Her arms grip tightly around your waist and a large part of you wants to believe its not for the fear of falling 700ft through the air.

She whimpers slightly as legs wrap round one of yours.

Your grips tightens reflexively around her back as gently as your body can muster.

You don't want to crush her.

* * *

You slowly lower the two of you down to the roof.

Her feet are balanced precariously on the tops of your toes.

Normally you would be annoyed that you know you're going to have to wash them later.

None of that matters now.

You are one foot off the ground.

You pull your head back, just a fraction.

Her face is buried in the crook of your neck. You swear you feel her breathe you in.

Her lips are pressed lightly into your skin.

"We're here."You say softly into her ear.

Her breathing starts to settle.

You wish you could say the same about yours.

* * *

She steps down off your toes. You are a couple inches taller thanks to the air below your feet.

Her hands are resting on your upturned forearms.

Her fingers crawl against your skin until they wrap themselves around each of your arms.

"Thank you." She whispers so quietly you think the only reason you hear her is because only you can a the whisper of a mouse.

"My pleasure Ms Pierce. Next time, maybe you should avoid giving yourself up to the guys in balaclavas wielding machine guns."

Her eyes shoot up at you questioningly.

"How do you know my name?"

Say something smart.

Say something quick.

Say something funny.

Say _anything_, it doesn't have to be smart or funny… It just has to be quick.

* * *

It's a simple question really. One that shouldn't take a lot of thought to attempt to answer.

"I make it a point to know the girl I seem to have in my arms every time I turn a corner."

You should have just smiled and shut the hell up.

You big cheeseball.

Her lips tug up into a smile.

Well done, Casanova.

* * *

"Well, I'll see you round Ms Pierce."

You make a notion to 'fly off'. (Really, you'll just sneak up through the service elevator, back into the office)

"Wait"

It is only now you realize one of your hands has become tangled in hers.

Your eyes lock with hers.

You raise an eyebrow in encouragement.

She takes her bottom lip between her teeth and tugs at your wrist.

You allow yourself to gravitate ever so slightly towards her.

"Thank you" She says more confidently this time.

"I've never got a chance to thank you properly, and I guess I just, wanted to tell you that"

* * *

You know exactly whats about to happen.

You can't let it happen. Not now, not ever.

She can never know. You can't ever let her know.

* * *

It happens in slow motion. Her hand tugs your wrist even closer until it brushes the top of her thigh.

Your other hand hangs idly by your side.

She arches onto the balls of her feet (even though in reality, she stands 2 inches taller).

Her eyelashes flutter as she closes them.

You can hear her heart pounding in her chest.

Or is it yours?

You're not so sure.

* * *

She leans in ever so slightly.

The tip of her nose grazes your top lip. Dragging it upwards slowly, purposefully.

You swear a simple action has never sent your stomach into such a frenzy. It feels like you are flying around the world at the speed of light.

You realize you have no idea what to do with your hands.

Finally, or finally in your super slow-motion version of events.

Finally her lips capture yours. You feel her smile against you.

She lets out a soft hum against your lips, and you feel the vibrations all the way from the tip of your lips to the tips of your toes.

Her fingertips trail up the sleeves of your arms. You swear if you were human, they would have left a searing trail along your skin.

* * *

Her hands meet your collarbone pausing for a split second.

You start to smile back into the kiss. (You mentally slap yourself. You shouldn't be doing this.)

Her thumbs circle gently in the dip of your collar as her lips move with precision against yours.

You shyly place your hands on her waist.

Her arms encircle your neck and you are pulled into her completely. There's no escape.

This might as well be a kryptonite cell. But a good kind. A kind you would voluntarily put yourself in every day, all day as long as you got to do this. With her.

Her tongue swipes tentatively along your bottom lip. You could die right there.

She pulls back slightly. Your eyes remain shut. You don't want her to see the desire raging in the pit of your stomach.

She rests her forehead on your chin.

You stay like this for a few seconds. Maybe more. You can't be sure.

* * *

Finally you gather the strength to open your eyes.

She's blushing, smiling like she's just won the lottery. Funny. You're sure it was you with the winning ticket.

She's looking directly into your eyes.

You clear your throat awkwardly. Anything to fill this silence. Anything to stop you from leaning in that inch between you and taking her lips in yours.

You wave your hands in the air searching for hers. Pausing once they hook over her biceps.

You tug them down gently.

"Well, I better be going. You know… People to save…" You smile like a lovesick, hormonal teenager. If you could you would swat yourself across the back of your head. You would.

Thankfully, your dorky humor is not lost on her. Her eye brow twitches and lifts.

"Be careful, Ms Pierce. As much as I try, I might not always be around to catch you when you fall."

Her eyes lock with yours at the words.

She looks at you like shes holding a secret.

You know this look all too well. You put it on every morning as you perch your glasses on your nose. Except this time, you don't know what the secret is, and you feel left out.

You see the safe in her eyes. It's dying to be opened.

You wish you knew where the key was.

You find out later, you had it all along.

But for now, you'll have to settle with knowing she wants you to open it.

* * *

_"_Hey, wait!"

You turn over your shoulder, slowly, the rest of your body follows.

"Tonight, meet me at my window." She winks.

God she's sexy.

You die for the second time today.

"I'll see you round Pierce."

You repeat that for the second time today.

You wish you had otherworldly powers in the department of language too.

* * *

You fly off without looking back.

You couldn't. If you did, you'd fly right back down, take her in your arms and fly off someplace only you and her would be. And stay there.

You make it round the world once. Your heart is still fluttering, lost somewhere around the Daily Planet.

You go once more. You figure it'll be safe now to retrieve it.

You realize you never will. You gave it up to her in that kiss.

You plucked it right out of your chest and handed it straight to her without a moments hesitation.

Later you realize it's one of the things she has locked away in her safe.

* * *

"Britt!" You come stumbling into your joint office.

"Britt! I saw everything on TV are you-" Smack.

Faceplanting the floor is not going to be the most graceful entrance.

Your hand flails out infront of you and just about manages to catch the edge of her desk on your way down.

Her arm hooks under it to keep you up.

"What the hell was that?" You mumble to nobody.

"Sorry, my bag…"

"S'okay"

* * *

You compose yourself. Flattening your shirt with your hands and smoothing out the creases in your pencil skirt.

You silently curse whoever invented heels.

Pushing your glasses back up the bridge of your nose, you remember where you were.

Faux-panic.

You look up and she is standing a lot closer than you thought.

Real panic.

You stumble backwards and hit the edge of your desk. This time not with your hands.

You perch on the end trying to regain some sort of composure. You want to seem cool.

You consider your next words, wanting to sound concerned without being weird.

You don't want to give anything away.

* * *

"Sorry, so yeah… I mean, I heard about the bank and… you know, are you okay? I was so worried I saw it all on TV. How did you get there I thought you were right behind me at lunch but-"

She's decided sitting next to you on the edge of her desk is the best place to continue this conversation.

You don't.

She's infinitely too close. And yet infinitely too far away all at once.

You try to remain focused.

Her pinky brushes yours and sends a spark of electricty right up your arm.

You're not focused.

"Yeah I was, sorta, but I'd forgotten my wallet and when I got back to the office I heard the news and I figured one of us should be down there to cover the story."

She drums her hands on the desk nervously.

She's debating whether or not to tell you what happened. You can hear it in the inflection of her pulse.

You simultaneously love and hate that that kiss makes her feel the same way you do.

You wish thinking about _you_ made those irregular patterns in her heartbeat.

You settle for this. It's as close to _you _as you think she'll ever know.

* * *

"And then, I guess you know, Superwoman saved the day."

"Yeah, I saw…" You look down at your feet. "I wish I coulda been there…"

What she doesn't know is that you were. You always were. You always will be.

She nudges you with her shoulder.

"Hey, even if you were there you couldn't have stopped me. I'd have run in there anyway with you tripping over thin air behind me." You hear the chuckle brewing in the back of her throat.

You know she's joking. You love that she can with you. She doesn't with many.

"You wouldn't have it any other way."

The one thing you don't hear is her silent confirmation. She wouldn't. She'd rather see Superwoman, because she wants to see what you assume she assumes is 'you'.

"You always find a way to get yourself into trouble. If I didn't know any better I'd think you're finding excuses to run into her." You tease.

She leans her head on your shoulder.

You hold your breath. You don't move a muscle. You could stay like this all day.

* * *

She lets out a sigh.

"I'm glad you're okay." You breathe out whilst managing to stay completely unmoved.

She nestles into you neck a bit more.

"You're amazing you know that?" She tilts her head slightly as if to look up at you.

You nod. Confused as to why. But you nod.

You'll find out later.

"What can I say? I do what I do."

"You're a dork. Don't ever change."

She links her arm with yours. Her free hand caresses one side of your face, and she kisses you catching the corner of your lips.

She lingers for a second, as if to consider taking this in another direction.

You hope she does.

She pulls away, sits back at her desk, and types a mile a minute.

* * *

You were hoping she would take the other direction.

You've always dreamt what it would be like to be with her. In this room. On her desk. On yours. Against the door.

Stop.

You feel your cheeks flush. Your body flushes. You hope she doesn't see it.

You chance a glance over to her amidst your dirty thoughts. It's not the wisest idea. All your thoughts come flooding back the minute your eyes hit sun drenched hair.

Her eyes are trained on the screen in front of her. You're glad for it.

As you move to get up, you realize how hard you had been gripping the desk. Your fingers have indented the underside of the edge. You hope noone notices. You'll fix that later.

You wander back to your desk and sit down with a huff.

A girl can dream.

* * *

It's approaching the end of your day.

You've finished up research for an article, looked into sources about the bank robbery today, only one thing left to do.

You look up from your desk, idly twirling a pen between your fingers.

You don't know how you sit opposite her everyday without lunging across the threshold of your desks and capturing her in a kiss that tells her everything you've ever wanted to say.

She's got her glasses perched on top of her head, flicking a pencil between her teeth and tapping away at her keyboard.

Her brows are knitted together. It's her game face.

You kind of don't want to interrupt. But you're going to.

* * *

"Britt?"

She's still typing, eyes trained on her screen.

You clear your throat and try again.

"Britt?"

She snaps her attention to you. Her features relaxing.

"Hmm?"

The pencil droops from her lips. Oh God, what you would give to be that pencil right now. Sat between two perfectly plump lips.

You're staring. She notices.

"Sorry, I was just uh…" You rub the back of your neck out of nervousness.

"I was just wondering, what you're up to tonight? I thought maybe, you and I could… could grab a bite to eat, you know since you kinda missed lunch and all?" Wow. Officially pathetic.

She slowly takes the pencil out her mouth. She looks almost apologetic.

"I've got plans actually, sorry Lopez." (You love when she calls you Lopez). "I'm uh…" She starts to get nervous. You hear it in her voice, and you see the secret laced in her eyes. "I'm meeting someone later…"

You don't hide the disappointment in your eyes. She's meeting Superwoman. You know this because you _are _Superwoman.

Shit. You just remembered, you're meeting her.

You're suddenly slightly less disappointed. Only slightly.

* * *

"How 'bout tomorrow night? I'll cook?" You smile. It's all you can do. The thought of her in an apron making dinner suddenly makes you flush. You go straight from that to the thought of her in _only_ an apron.

Jesus Lopez cut it out.

"Sounds, perfect. D'ya want me to bring anything?"

She shakes her head. "Just bring yourself" She purrs.

Oh God, not again. You die a third time.

* * *

"See you 'round Lopez!" She throws over her shoulder exiting the office. She lingers at the door looking at you with that 'she knows a secret' stare.

"Yeah see you tomorrow Pierce."

"Oh, you will." And with a knowing wink she skips out the door. Literally, skips.

Your heart skips a beat. She's excited to see you. Well, not _you_, but you. But kind of you really. You're confusing yourself.

You don't get confused. But she confuses you. Being around her confuses you. Stop confusing yourself.

* * *

You're glad it's a quiet night tonight.

You fly low. The city lights glow below you and you can't help but train your gaze in the light that glows for you.

You're not sure when would be an appropriate time to show up. You're still not sure if you're going to do it. Show up that is. At her window.

* * *

She's humming something. You hear her from across town.

She's humming the tune to How Good it can Be by The 88.

You pause mid flight.

You were humming that today. You as in _you_. Not, you know, you now.

* * *

Okay, you can't keep doing this.

In the flash of an instant you make up your mind.

You decide you need to tell her the truth. All this you and not you stuff that you internally debate about and refer to is giving you too much of a headache.

You need for 'you', to just mean _you_.

You want for her to just know _you_.

You don't know where this sudden need to come clean comes from but you know in your heart of hearts that you need to do it tonight.

You want her to know Santana Lopez. Not Superwoman who acts as Santana Lopez. Because that is not _you_. You are Santana, and Superwoman is just someone you have to be for everyone. Sometimes.

Shit.

You're gonna do it tonight. You have to.

It scares the shit out of you.

(Stop saying shit.)

* * *

As your internal debate rages on. You find yourself hovering outside her window.

You peer inside and see she's cooking. Not just cooking. Dancing and cooking. She couldn't look cuter if she tried.

Your debate comes to a groundbreaking halt. You have an idea.


End file.
